Ghosts Of The Past
by kateandria
Summary: She's back, she's safe, everything's alright - on the outside. And then a new case brings back everything she's been trying to repress... Rated T for what might come up later.
1. Chapter 1

**So this is what happens when I'm supposed to work on my term paper…**

**I've had this in my head for quite a while now. I like the idea very much, it's just that it turns out to be quite hard to work it out, so I decided to publish the first chapter and hope for you guys to leave some comments and tell me what you think about it! **

**For better understanding: present in normal letters, past in italics.**

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately I own nothing.**

She was standing on the edge. Standing on the edge and looking down. Just one step. Just one little step and in 50 meters she'd be hitting the sidewalk. One step. It was so easy. She would just close her eyes and never see it coming. One step and it would all be over.

Frustrated, she wiped away the tears and took a step back. No, she hadn't come up here to end it. She wanted to think. And she wanted to suffer. She didn't feel like she had suffered enough. That was what she's been doing all the time. Punishing herself. For letting go. For falling apart. For giving up. For everything. Ending it now would be merciful. And she didn't want mercy. She wanted pain.

And she couldn't do that to her friends. _They_ had suffered enough. She would punish herself. Not them.

Ziva David broke down into a sobbing bundle on the roof of the NCIS building.

_She blinked as Saleem pulled the bag from her head. Tears came to her eyes, this time not from pain, but from the sudden bright light._

"_There you go, bitch." He threw the little box at her. Out of a reflex she caught it. "I'll be back in five minutes. Do it and tell me."_

_Her hands trembled as she opened the box and slowly unfolded the package insert. They had never planned this. Damn, they hadn't even thought about this. She didn't want it. She couldn't handle this right now. What would Saleem do to her if it was true? And how was she to protect it? It was her responsibility. Would they let her keep it? Would they kill it? Surely they would use it against her._

_She took a deep breath and wished she'd never been born._


	2. Chapter 2

She didn't remember how long she'd been lying there in the burning sun, but after some time her heartbreaking sobs slowly faded away and she was able to breathe properly again. She ordered herself to get up and crawl over to the huge box which kept their ventilation system and the satellite dish, and crouch down in the shadow.

Her skin hurt and already began to peel off when she touched it. She had a sick pleasure in pulling off huge pieces until she saw blood. Only good that nobody had yet noticed she was up here, and even better that Gibbs wasn't with her right now. He would have slapped her and ordered her to stop hurting herself.

But this was exactly what she needed. It made her feel alive.

She closed her eyes and whimpered in agony as the memories came back to her.

_She was scared shitless when she reached for the little tube again and looked at the package insert to see what the blue stripe meant._

_Much later, she only remembered how her weak body had hit the cold ground. When Saleem had come back she'd just been lying there, eyes closed, face down. After kicking her hard he had pulled her up by her hair, gotten her on a chair and put her ties back on._

_When waking up from unconsciousness, first thing she did was throw up all over her dirty, torn clothes. Saleem just laughed, an evil, heartless laughter, and stroke her hair, as he knew exactly how much she hated his touch. She threw up again and again until nothing but bile came out. She had never felt the urge to die so sudden and strong._

_He softly caressed her belly. She tried to pull back as far as possible with her ties on to keep him from touching it, which only led to him slapping her so hard her lip started bleeding._

_Tears were streaming over her face when he placed the little tube on the windowsill for her to always look at. It had pleased him before to make her suffer physically, but now he seemed to have found a better way, one to torture her mentally – and it totally worked._

_Ziva screamed with all her heart. Screamed out all her pain and her fear. Screamed for her mother, a thing she hadn't done since the age of three._

_The blue stripe on the tube meant "pregnant"._

**I know it's not Shakespeare, but please let me know what you think about it! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry it took me so long, but now that I've finished my term paper I hope I'll be able to update more often! **

**Disclaimer: Still own nothing.**

Her face was burning hot, her fingers icy cold. She rocked herself back and forth, trying to oppress her sobs. All the memories she had shut down so accurately in a corner of her mind were coming back.

She pressed her hands to her ears, a helpless try to shut out the screams. There were a lot of them, some young, some of herself, lots of a baby.

But that wasn't possible. A woman couldn't get pregnant and give birth to a child and then forget all about it. It couldn't be hers.

At least that was what she hoped for.

_She hugged her belly in a helpless protective gesture. Saleem grinned at her. _

"_Are you afraid of me?"_

_She forced herself to breathe calmly as he slowly came nearer._

"_Of course you aren't. Why would you? You know I could never hurt you. I love children. I wouldn't hurt a loving mother-to-be." She choked and closed her eyes. "I'm sure you're so looking forward! Believe me, parenthood is the most exciting thing in the world. And you surely seem like you're always in for a challenge."_

_She had killed before. She had killed often. She had killed with pleasure. But she had never killed someone innocent._

_Right now she had only one desperate thought. Would she be able to kill it? Kill it quickly and mercifully, so Saleem wouldn't have a chance to hurt it? And use it against her?_


	4. Chapter 4

"Ziva."

Her breath was still heavy, her heart beating way too fast.

"Ziva. Come down."

She wished the annoying voice would leave her alone.

"Honey. No one will hurt you. I promise."

Her laughter sounded more like a scream. She started to scratch her wrists like a lunatic, and was actually relieved when she felt the blood on her fingertips. Bleeding meant she was still alive.

"Ziva. Tell me what happened. You know you can trust me."

When in fact she could trust nobody.

_She started singing to herself whenever she was alone. In Hebrew, in English, lullabies and pop songs. Another try to shut out the thoughts._

_She played whole CDs in her head when he had tied her to the wooden bench again. She hardly felt the pain anymore. There were times when she wasn't even sure she was alive anymore._

_Not that she cared, really. The cellar, the small window, her chair, her ties, his smile, his evil laughter, his hands softly stroking her bare skin. It all seemed surreal._

_And she wouldn't have cared for herself anyway. All she cared for was the little… she wasn't sure what it was, in fact, so she simply called it 'little life'. The little life inside her._

_Saleem took a lot of pleasure from watching her having extensive morning sickness. He kept talking to her about children in general. But he never talked about the one growing inside her. He never threatened to hurt it to make her obey._

_Like that meant anything._


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm really sorry this is so very very short... I totally don't know what to think of this chapter. I have no idea if to like or hate it...**

* * *

><p>Ziva sat there and watched the sun starting to hide itself behind heavy clouds. A storm was coming up. She liked storms. Wild and uncontrollable. They made her feel a little more normal.<p>

Something had been bothering her. Since she had come back from Somalia, things had gone back to normal – almost. There was something teasing her, in the back of her brain, to stubborn to come out. The psychologists had assured her she was fine. Then this morning she had come to the office, dropped her coffee, had a huge argument with Abby, and then found the file on her desk. The file saying that Emily Johnson, a little girl from a wealthy marine family, had been kidnapped. Next thing she knew was that she'd yelled at Tony because he had dared to ask her about her weekend, shoved him (hard) against a wall and stormed away to the elevators.

And now she was up here, trying to figure out why she'd freaked out about a case of a baby girl kidnapped. There had been the urge to die. To jump off the roof and end it, when she'd figured out that she didn't even know why she wanted to jump.

Now there were pictures in her head, pictures of a tiny bloody baby in her own arms. She didn't know where the baby came from. There were melodies, noises, the sound of an evil voice shouting at her, telling her things she could not quite remember. Pain. Screaming. Tears. Begging. Blood. Too little air to breathe.

And the weird feeling of something moving inside of her.


	6. Chapter 6

"David, come down right now. That's an order."

"GO TO HELL!"

She didn't like that man with silver hair. She didn't recognize him and somehow he scared her. She wanted him to go away. To leave her alone with her tears and her pain. Nobody would understand anyway. She didn't even understand it herself. She desperately tried to think. Those were HER memories. If she couldn't remember, who could?

_Her belly was growing fast. One would already notice the bump sticking out from her dirty torn shirt. The good thing was that they were giving her more to eat. Did terrorists like children? Was there even a humane feature about Saleem?_

_When she put both hands on her stomach and focused really hard, she could feel the baby moving inside of her. Her little baby, that clung to her because she was its mother, and loved her because it didn't know any better. The thought brought tears to her eyes._

_Sometimes, when she was alone in the cellar, she would softly sing to it; lullabies she remembered from her childhood. How could a tiny baby as lovely as that be born into a world so cruel?_

_She felt sure that it was to be a girl. She had never really imagined herself as a mother, but now she could easily picture herself with a little daughter; protecting her from all the evil around her._

_In her mind, she called her Ameera. _


End file.
